


The Keepers

by o_dragon



Category: Gargoyles (Cartoon)
Genre: Adirondacks, Confidence, Drug Mentions, F/M, Magic, Magical Creatures, Monster/Human Relationship, Original Female Character (human)/Canon Male Character (gargoyle), Original Female Character/Canon Male Character, Terato, Teratophilia, humans wanting to kill magical creatures, the other gargoyles are here but they're not as prevalent, trust in self
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 05:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19900387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o_dragon/pseuds/o_dragon
Summary: The Reaping is coming: the time when those who want to create a human-only world slaughter magical creatures. Nave is a Keeper, a magical human who is charged with safeguarding the creatures. She convinces the Manhattan clan to seek shelter in the Adirondacks during this time. When they are attacked, Nave must find the strength to defend those she loves. BrooklynxOC





	The Keepers

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, this was supposed to be a one-shot with just chapter one, however, I have decided to turn it into a full story. More chapters will come out as I'm able to post them. I originally wrote most of this last autumn in 2018, but with a recent trip to Alaska, it's inspired me to begin posting. I hope you enjoy this story! It has truly been a joy to get to write this. If you like it, please review and let me know!
> 
> I do not own, in any way, the characters, places, or ideas of the Gargoyles universe produced by Disney. I only own my own characters and plot.

A long, low whistle caught his attention as he stretched, awakened from his stone sleep. "This is some potent weed."

Brooklyn looked to his left, where the feminine voice came from, and sure enough, a young human was shaking her head, staring at the joint held between two fingers. But she wasn't having the same reaction as most humans did whenever they saw him or his clan. No screaming. No running. No shaking in fear. "Are you real or a figment of some trip I'm about to find myself on?"

"I'm… real?" Brooklyn replied, still lost as to what she was talking about.

"But of course you would say that, even if you were a figment of my imagination. I gotta hand it to Justin - he rolled this good. Even making my own thoughts come to life." She took another long drag from the thing in her hand. It smelled sweet - almost sickly sweet.

The woman seemed to be talking to herself, going off on a muttering tangent, and looking back over the city in front of them. Honestly, he wasn't sure if he should leave her be or start talking to her - an actual _human_ who wasn't afraid of him! Broadway and Lex would never believe him.

He stayed where he was, crouched on the ledge which he'd found the morning before. His wings folded behind him, careful not to accidentally catch the wind that blew against them from where they sat. They were high enough that the wind was almost constant. It caught her hair, too - light as the moon on a full night, with streaks of green and blue shot through it. She was perched on the ledge of the church as if she held no fear of falling to her death three stories below. One leg bent at the knee, the other dangling off the ledge. Around her neck, a silver chain disappeared into her shirt beneath the leather jacket she wore. It was similar to the one he'd found once.

"What's your name?" She finally asked him, as if remembering he was there. She glanced over at him, her green eyes shocking through him. Even in the dim light from the city around them he could tell the color. Gargoyles' vision at night was better than humans' during the day, he'd learned once. And her eyes were green as spring, and just as wild.

"Brooklyn," he answered. "What's yours?" He was careful to take it slow, so as not to spook her. The smile that she had worn - cocky, as if she knew all the secrets of the night - faded, and she moved the leg that she'd had bent down so that she could sit more comfortably.

He worried she wouldn't answer, and more so, worried for her safety as she braced her arms on either side of her on the ledge and leaned over her legs, watching the city below. "Nave," she finally said, pulling herself back up to turn to him. And this was more than just a glance. She moved her body so that one leg remained dangling over the ledge, and the other bent beneath her: she watched him, her head slightly cocked as she did spoke. "Technically it's Ellie. That's what my birth certificate says at least. My father gave me my name, and my mother gave me my middle name: Nave. She's always been a pious woman-" Nave's eyes glazed over, as if she was remembering something far away, but continued rambling. Brooklyn listened anyway. There was nothing more interesting in this entire city than the woman who sat just a mere five feet from him. "-She wanted my first name to be Nave - _I_ _'ve never heard of a girl named Nave, have you?_ \- she would ask me over cocoa when I asked her to tell me about when I was born. But my father wanted me to be named Ellie, like his sister who died when he was fourteen. But it didn't really matter in the end. I was named Ellie, just as my father wished, and then he ran off with his mistress when I was six and I was stuck with the name Ellie, just as I'm stuck with his family name. But I'm Nave. Nave Roberts." Her gaze focused again, and Brooklyn found himself trapped within their depths. "Chosen names, I think, have more power than given ones."

"I chose my name," Brooklyn said proudly. Even though she rambled, it wasn't about nothing.

"It's a good name," she replied, the wind sweeping her hair into her face. As she pushed it back, she continued, "It's strong, like the borough."

She paused, her gaze moving from his briefly, to something over his shoulder. Immediately, though, it was back on him. "I've never seen you around here before. Are you new?"

She was joking, right? But as he appraised her again, he found that her posture had changed. Not necessarily the way she sat, but the way she held herself, as if she was studying him.

"I don't think you're in my head," she replied, as if in answer to some unspoken question. "But anyway, where did you come from?"

"What gave it away?"

She took in a breath, straightening, and adjusting herself of the ledge. "You're too real. I've never seen a gargoyle in person before - only the ones around the church -" she gestured around them, "And usually if I've never seen something before, my imagination doesn't stay consistent. Details are added or taken away, but in the time we've been talking, nothing about you has changed. Except maybe the fact that you're no longer stone." She smiled again, the gesture reaching her eyes.

It made him relax again. "You're really not freaked out."

"I deal with weird on a daily basis," she assured him. "You're not the weirdest thing I've ever seen. Creature? You're not a person, but I don't want to other you."

"Creature is fine. I'm a gargoyle, after all." Brooklyn replied. "And to answer your question, I'm originally from Wyvern Castle."

"Oh, that's the one that Xanatos bought awhile back, isn't it? It used to be in Scotland, I think. I've got family over there. Gorgeous country."

Silence lapsed, but before it could stretch for too long, he mirrored her question, "Are you from here?"

"The city?" he nodded. "No, more upstate. Up near the Adirondacks." He didn't necessarily want to ask what that was, and they lapsed into silence again.

Her attention moved from him, and they took in the city in silence.

He'd found the ledge by accident the night before. He, Broadway, and Lex had been watching a party from the rooftops, colorful and loud, and as the night grew on, the party ended. Broadway and Lex had left early in the night, leaving him to wander around the side streets alone. It was at the church they now sat on the ledge of that he'd found a young artist selling her art on the steps of the church. Glancing back to the girl who sat across from him, it clicked into place.

"You're the artist from last night!"

She turned back to him, her mouth in the shape of a little 'o' in surprise, but the expression quickly changed. "You were watching me!" She exclaimed, a laugh slipping out. "I thought I'd felt someone watching! Did you get to see what I was selling?"

"My sight is pretty good, and so are you." He smiled as she blushed.

"Do you want to see them up close? I didn't sell quite as many as I'd hoped last night, although I did get a handful of commissions." He didn't answer right away, and she slipped from the ledge onto the floor next to them in one lithe movement. Turning back to face him, he hadn't moved, weighing the options to go into the church with her. She didn't exude any malicious intent, but neither had Xanatos before he'd betrayed them. Still, Nave had been nothing but kind to him since meeting her, although she was a little odd.

Finally, he moved, stepping down from the ledge and standing next to her. He was a full head taller than she was, easy, but still she did not falter, standing tall with her shoulders back. The confidence that radiated from her was as wild as her green eyes, but he still followed her back into the church and down the stairs to the sanctuary.

"Do you live here?" He asked when they finally came into view of an air mattress with a sleeping bag pushed into a corner and art supplies scattered about. A small card table and folding chair still had a plate of her dinner's leftovers sitting on it, along with a small radio that was turned off. The pews that he knew usually filled a sanctuary were elsewhere; besides her possessions, there was nothing in the room.

"Only when I need to visit the city. This church has been in my family for over a century. My great-great grandfather commissioned it way back when and when a newer structure was built elsewhere, it fell back into our family's estate. Now I use it as a base of sorts, and keep it up for others that need to use it." Her boots _click-click-clicked_ across the stone floor as she led the way across the great expanse of space. An eerie feeling covered the entire floor. Above, there had been nothing but sky and the city's sounds and lights. Down here, though, it was like the walls pressed in on him. The eerie feeling was too much, and it only took a moment or two of warring with himself for him to make his decision. Something just wasn't right with this space. Two wooden doors caught his attention, and he quickly made his way toward them.

"I'm sorry, Nave - I, uh, I need to go." He said and began backing up, toward the doors as she turned. Pulling them open and slipping out the crack, he didn't wait for her protest, but instead began climbing the smooth stone face of the church until he was high enough again that the wind easily caught his wings.


End file.
